


Flirting with Danger

by iwaizumemes (skytramp)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Barebacking, Blood, Bloodplay, M/M, Murder, Rough Sex, Stitches, Unsafe Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-03 01:31:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4081360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skytramp/pseuds/iwaizumemes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something about the slick way blood felt under his fingertips reminded him of sex. When he was younger he thought it was the pain that he craved, he begged his lovers to scratch him, to bite, anything to get the blood flowing, by the time he met Hanamaki that hadn’t been enough. He was bored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flirting with Danger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brass/gifts).



> Please heed all warnings, and let me know if there's something else I should have warned for.
> 
> This work is a companion piece to my other Hanasuga titled [Wet](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3979996)
> 
> Murder Boyfriends AU

Something about the slick way blood felt under his fingertips reminded him of sex. When he was younger he thought it was the pain that he craved, he begged his lovers to scratch him, to bite, anything to get the blood flowing, by the time he met Hanamaki that hadn’t been enough. He was bored. Bored of everything, a fuck was just a fuck, even the roughest wasn’t rough enough. 

He found Hanamaki, face down in an alley in the pouring rain, lying in a pool of blood. He thought he was dead, truly, but the prospect of seeing a dead body was too much to pass up. He walked farther into the alley, the rain was falling in earnest and his jacket felt ten times heavier than normal, he tightened it around his waist. He stepped into the pool of blood, somehow the ripples were thicker, slower than the rain puddles around him, he almost wept with joy. 

When he nudged the toe of his boot against the man’s side, he groaned. Suga didn’t step back, he nudged him again. 

“What the fuck?” The voice was muffled, probably by some combination of concrete and his own jacket that was bunched against his face. He didn’t move, so Suga kicked him again, a little harder. He rolled over then, onto his side, and Suga could just see that the blood had soaked his white shirt until it was a deep red and stuck to his chest. He looked good, for someone soaking wet and possibly half dead. He moved his head enough to see Suga standing over him and, ridiculously, he smiled.

“Well, hello, who are you?” He greeted, seemingly oblivious to any pain he was in as he turned and sat crosslegged, still in the pool of blood. 

“I thought you were dead.” Suga replied. 

“You sound disappointed.” 

“Well, yeah, kind of.” 

The man mimed a shot to the chest, dramatically clutching near his heart with an exaggerated pained expression. “You wound me.”

“Actually it seems like someone else did that.” 

The man smiled again and Suga offered his hand. He didn't shake it, but instead used it to pull himself up. He dusted off his wet jeans as if that would do anything to clean them. 

"Is that even your blood?" Suga asked. 

The man looked down, as if he hadn't even noticed. He lifted his shirt quickly and I'm the dim alley Suga couldn't see more than an expanse of tanned skin, lean, and the dark slashes that must've been bleeding wounds, it was hard to tell through the still falling rain. 

"Mostly. I think. Since the other guy walked away." He dropped his shirt and it stuck to his skin again, leaving a strip of skin exposed. 

“Do you need a hospital or something?” Suga wasn’t particularly inclined to be the one to take him there, or even call an ambulance, but maybe if the man asked nicely, or smiled again. 

“Oh, no thanks. Is there a reason you’re still here though? Not that I mind, just…” He looked down at himself and gestured with one hand. 

“Was it a fight?” Suga asked. He didn’t have an answer to the question of why he was still here, but this ridiculous guy with a slashed open chest who was making jokes and hadn’t showed a single sign of pain held his interest in a way that nothing had for months. 

“It was a mugging, a failed one at that.” He stuck his hands in his jeans pockets and shrugged his shoulders. 

“Oh, they didn’t take your wallet while you were on the ground?” Suga pushed his wet hair out of his eyes. 

“They took their wallet _back_ while I was on the ground.” 

“Oh.” 

“That’s all you have to say? Damn, you’re weirder than I thought.” He laughed and took a step forward, closing the gap between them. He pulled his hand from his pocket and held it out to shake. Suga took it. “I’m Hanamaki Takahiro.” He shook Suga’s hand before putting his own back in his pocket. 

“Sugawara Koushi.” Suga smiled and Hanamaki smiled back. 

“You know, you just told a self professed mugger your name.” 

“I’m pretty sure I could outrun you right now.” 

“I could probably find you though, with your name.” He took another step forward, until they were only just over a foot apart. 

“Maybe I want you to find me.” 

Hanamaki looked him up and down then, his eyes trailing over the small space of Suga’s bare throat, lingering wherever skin was visible. 

“Come home with me, then.” Hanamaki said, with the brightest smile yet, and Suga just laughed. “What? I wasn’t joking.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” Suga said, still laughing, and stepped forward to loop one arm over Hanamaki’s shoulders. “You should button your jacket, unless you want to get arrested” 

“Wait. Was that a yes?” He started buttoning his jacket with fumbling fingers, Suga left his arm draped over his shoulders. 

“Yes, that was a yes, now hurry up.” 

Luckily, Hanamaki didn’t live far, and they didn’t have to wander through a crowded train station drenched in blood and rain. He fumbled slightly when he pulled the keys from his pocket, and Suga leaned against him to give him support. The evaporating rain and their body heat made everything feel like steam in the dingy apartment hallway, and Suga was eager to get out of his clothes sooner rather than later. 

Hanamaki seemed to have a similar plan, and as soon as the door was shut he shed first his jacket, then his shirt, leaving them in a heap on the floor. In the overhead fluorescent light Suga could see his wounds more clearly now. His back was unmarked, only a few scars stood out near his shoulder blades and he was thin enough Suga could see the knobs of his spine pushing against skin. 

“Hang on.” He said, and Suga stood near the door when Hanamaki ventured further into the apartment. He came back with a small first aid kit and a separate pouch that was zipped closed. Suga pulled off his jacket and set it beside Hanamaki’s, it dripped onto the floor. His own sweater was wet as well, the gray even darker than usual, but he kept it on for now. 

Hanamaki plopped down on the threadbare couch with a groan and opened the first aid kit. He pulled out a bottle of isopropyl alcohol and splashed it over his chest with a wince. He glanced up, seemingly just remembering Suga was there and he beckoned him over with one hand. 

“You wanna sew me up? I’m shitty at it.” 

Suga had never even sewed so much as a pillowcase before but he nodded and joined Hanamaki on the couch. He could feel his wet sweater leaving spots against the fabric. Hanamaki handed him the zipped pouch and when Suga opened it he found three curved needles and thread that looked suspiciously like fishing line. 

Suga spent thirty seconds trying to thread the needle before he sighed in frustration. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“Here, let me.” Hanamaki slid over slightly, so that their thighs were touching and he grabbed the pouch from Suga’s lap. He threaded the needle in two tries and handed the needle and thread back to Suga. “Now, just, sew me up! Start here.” He pointed to a three inch slash over his left pectoral muscle, a few inches above his nipple and Suga turned sideways, kneeling so he could get a proper angle. 

He bit his lip when the needle pierced the skin and Hanamaki closed his eyes. He pulled the needle all the way through, and the thread with it, not pausing until it was time to start the next stitch. 

“Does it hurt?” Suga asked quietly, and he watched as Hanamaki’s lip twitched.

“Well it doesn’t feel nice.” 

Suga scooted closer, until his knees were against Hanamaki’s thigh and he still didn’t feel close enough. Bracing himself against Hanamaki’s shoulder, the needle still between his thumb and forefinger, he threw his leg over Hanamaki’s lap and straddled him. 

“Well that feels nicer.” He said, smiling up at Suga.

Suga started stitching again. He bit his lip in concentration and he knew Hanamaki watched his mouth the entire time. When the first wound was tied off, he moved on to the second, along his ribs on the left side, and the third, just over his belly button. Suga knelt on the floor, between Hanamaki’s knees for that one, and occasionally ghosted his forearm against the crotch of Hanamaki’s jeans. By the time he was finished he could see Hanamaki was at least half hard and he laughed when he set the needle beside the others in the pouch. 

“Why are you laughing?” Hanamaki asked. Suga stood and stretched his arms over his head. 

“No reason.” He had no right to mock Hanamaki for his partial erection, because with every slight gasp and the drag of the thread through Hanamaki’s skin Suga had felt himself stirring as well. Stitching his wounds had been the best foreplay Suga’s had in years. “Is that why you invited me home? To give you stitches?” 

“Well I was hoping to fuck you, but this was a bonus. Two birds with one stone, so to speak.” He smiled and sat back farther, leaning into the couch and he rested his arm along the back. 

“I was hoping so.” Suga pulled off his sweater in a quick motion, it snagged slightly on his wet skin but he was determined and he dropped his pants before the sweater even hit the floor. He wiggled his hips, pulling down the well fitted jeans and by the time he kicked them completely off his legs Hanamaki was laughing again. 

“You better not be laughing at me.” Suga said, standing in his underwear. 

“I’m laughing at my change of luck. Fuck, you’re hot. How did I get so lucky after getting so incredibly unlucky?” 

Suga didn’t answer, he took the few steps forward he needed to straddle Hanamaki again, this time spreading his bare thighs as wide as they could on the small couch. When he was settled he rested both hands against Hanamaki’s neck and kissed him hard. 

Their mouths smashed together, hard enough Suga thought he may have split his lip but he didn’t care, he needed the friction more than air, the pressure, and the heat of Hanamaki’s tongue against his, running along his teeth, the inside of his cheeks. It wasn’t the pain he craved anymore, but the adrenaline, and Hanamaki tasted like it.

They kissed for a few minutes, Suga occasionally grinding his hips against Hanamaki’s and his hands drifted down Hanamaki’s chest, sliding over the fresh stitches. Hanamaki was loud, groaning into his mouth and bucking his hips against Suga’s weight on him. He took Suga’s face in both hands and pushed back, pulling them apart. 

“We should move.” 

“Where?” Suga’s voice was nothing but breath. 

“Bedroom.” 

Suga nodded but made no move to get off Hanamaki’s lap. With deceptive strength Hanamaki’s arms circled under Suga’s ass and he rose to his feet. Suga wrapped his legs around his waist as he was carried to the bedroom. The room was dark, he had only the barest impression of the decor before he was deposited flat on his back against the blankets. 

Hanamaki slid out of his own pants before crawling onto the mattress and settling between Suga’s spread legs. He leaned down, holding his weight on his hands, pressed on either side of Suga’s shoulders, and kissed him again. This time it was softer, almost hesitant, and Suga made a sound of frustration before he pushed hard at Hanamaki’s shoulder and rolled them. 

Hanamaki was on his back now, and Suga hiked his legs up until he was sitting over his hips. Suga’s eyes had adjusted enough that he could tell Hanamaki was smiling, and Suga moved off him again, just long enough to pull of his own briefs and then slide Hanamaki’s down his legs. When he resettled over Hanamaki’s hips he felt the heat and bit his lip when their cocks touched. 

He moved his hips, sliding their thighs together until Hanamaki let out a shaky laugh that was mostly just a deep inhale. 

“What?” Suga asked, moving just so they rubbed together again, rolling his hips. 

“You’re such a tease, hurry the fuck up.” 

"Where's your lube?" 

If Hanamaki was surprised by how forward Suga was he didn't show it. He reached over, twisting his torso as much as Suga's weight allowed until he fumbled open a drawer of the night stand. He handed Suga a small, plastic bottle. The lube was slick on his fingers, room temperature, and he let out a soft sigh when he pressed two fingers into himself. It was a stretch he was used to, it burned just enough to feel good. 

He could see Hanamaki watching him, as his own fingers moved faster, giving himself the barest minimum of preparation. Suga threw his head back, baring his throat and let out a soft moan when his fingers twisted in a way that rubbed his prostate. He pulled out his fingers and this time slicked Hanamaki's cock. His hips jumped at the touch. 

"Already?" He asked, and Suga didn't reply, he just slid his hips up and sunk down quickly on Hanamaki. It hurt, just as he wanted it to. 

Suga rested his hands on Hanamaki's chest as he rode him, sliding up and down at a pace that had them both gasping and Hanamaki moaning. Suga raked his fingers down Hanamaki's chest, not heeding where they snagged the stitches until he felt a moistness on his fingers that must have been blood. 

Hanamaki wrapped his arms around Suga, fingers digging into his shoulder blades, and rolled them back. Suga's back hit the blankets with a sharp intake of breath, but before he could complain Hanamaki was moving, slamming into him with the same force as before. 

Suga could feel the blood dripping from the wounds with every one of his thrusts, and he arched his back, lifting his hips to bring them together as hard as possible. It was amazing, the type of fuck he'd been dreaming of. This time he scratched his fingernails down Hanamaki's biceps, and felt where they strained, his arms struggling to support his weight. 

He pulled a hand down and wrapped it around his own cock, moving it with every thrust, fucking into his hand fast and dirty. When his hand wasn't slick enough he ran it down Hanamaki's chest and covered it in the leaking blood, then stroked himself again. 

It didn't take long, and he cried out as he came, his semen mixing with the blood on his hand and his cock. The clenching of his muscles in the aftershocks finished Hanamaki as well and he groaned and thrust in a few more times, riding out his orgasm and filling Suga. 

Hanamaki rolled off of him, collapsing on the bed with a sigh and Suga could feel the fluids leaking against his bare thighs, slick and filthy. 

When Hanamaki finally spoke it was more of a laugh than a sentence, and Suga knew they weren't finished. It was three days before Suga went home, and even then he felt he'd left some part of himself in that apartment, on Hanamaki's sheets, in his mouth. 

The dance continued, they met, fucked, ate, fucked, laughed, fucked, and soon Suga forgot what it was like before him. 

The first man Hanamaki killed was his landlord. And when they fucked in the man's kitchen, bare ass sitting on the vinyl countertop, Suga watched his lifeless eyes stare at the ceiling. 

That was truly when they went off the grid, if they'd even been on it before. Any worries Hanamaki had were quickly assuaged by Suga and they still laughed together, joked and smiled until their sides hurt and they couldn't breathe. 

The blood still reminded him of sex, the slick feeling under his fingertips that he craved, but now it wasn't complete without Hanamaki, without his wit and cutting grin, and he thought it was better this way.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy early birthday, Kait.


End file.
